She Is Not a Duck, Part 9

A Mother’s Journey into the world of Mental Health and Spectrum Disorder Challenges

She walks like a duck, talks like a duck, but she is not a duck.

Chapter 8 Hindsight is 20/20

At times, I questioned if my daughter’s road to wellness would have been a little less rocky if I had known what I was seeing. Had I been educated, in the least little bit, in Asperger’s Syndrome, Spectrum Disorders, or Mental Health challenges, would she have benefited from the earlier intervention?

This thought bothers me still.

Moms have guilt the minute a child is born. Will I be a good Mom? I am not good enough. Is my child hurt, sick, or sad? I should have prevented that. A better Mom wouldn’t let things get out of control.

And so, the additional burdens and questions regarding Sarah’s wellness were permanently lying just under the surface of all my daily angsts.

It carried such great weight that some days I was suffocating. I was determined to keep it at bay and limited my tear shed for when I could disguise them by mixing them in with the shower water. No one would know, or witness, just how weak and small I felt.

There were a lot of warning bells. Some were quite loud, but if you lived in a bubble and hadn’t been exposed to any mental health challenges, you don’t know what you’re hearing.

I didn’t hear the warning bells.

Sensory Overloads

Tactile sensitivities came to the forefront as early as the toddler years. Turtlenecks, appliqued shirt fronts with inside backing, tags, anything constricting or rubbing was a nightmare. She would fight and fuss and dig or scratch to ease the discomfort. She needed them off of her. She wanted to wear silky, satiny, clothing only.

Lighting was tricky. The brightness of the sun was never a problem, as she loved being outside. However, manufactured lighting would put her in heightened anxiety.

Until she was a young teen, I purchased all of her clothing so she could try it on at home and I would make additional trips for any returns. From the outside looking in, I may have been judged as a Helicopter Mom. What people didn’t know was that the trendy girl clothing stores had fluorescent lighting and lots of colored spotlights to attract sales.

The meltdowns were enough to prevent us from shopping like everyone else did and took for granted.

Noise sensitivities were specific to the atmosphere. She could crank up songs to sing and perform for us, so it wasn’t about the volume. The noise challenges were present if chaos was involved. Loud sirens, crowds of people chattering or cheering, all troubled her. Sometimes she would react by freezing in place and shutting down. At times, she would mimic a caged animal not knowing where to go or how to get out.

Energy sensitivities were more apparent as she aged. She absorbed whatever personal energy was facing her and morphed into the person emitting it. If I was angry, she was angrier. If I was giddy, she was giddier. This understanding would help as time went on and allowed me to alter the message I was sending her through my energy.

Other warning bells and red flags were overlooked, also.

Transitioning was never easy for Sarah. She would fixate on the task at hand, even with play, and have great difficulty moving on. At the onset of witnessing this resistance to transition, I believed she was stubborn. There was an unusual rigidness that indicated to look deeper which I did not realize at the time. Her refusal to switch tasks became a combativeness.

Social Cues were not easily read by Sarah. She would walk right up, into personal space and excitedly chatter about what she needed to say in that minute. In your face. There was no indication that she comprehended that she was interrupting. She was a close-talker without awareness of someone’s comfort level.

I can’t let my guilt overrun me, however, because I missed all of these behavioral characteristics.

The confusion of her even-keeled, fun-loving, ‘normal’ girl behaviors interfered and clouded the ability to clearly see the whole picture.

I have forgiven myself.

A New Focus

As she sat at the dining room table, comparatively looking so small, I wondered what tomorrow would bring.

I asked her why she kicked the boy at school. What had happened? She left the car so happy and excited for the day. Did he say something to her?

She simply looked up at me and said she had no idea why she kicked him.

There we were, both pretending I could actually teach her for 10 days as she served out her time on yet another suspension.

I knew then that it was time and I would need to rearm myself with a game plan to affect change. She deserved more, better, and even though I didn’t yet know what form that would take, I was bound and determined to find a way. A way for her.

I had 10 days to research, plan and educate the school that suspensions won’t cure mental illness challenges or spectrum disorders.

I fell into, stumbled upon, and unearthed a golden goose.

By the grace of God, I ‘met’ a doctor who understood.

After becoming thoroughly immersed in his writings and knowledge regarding the “Sarahs” in the world, I had to share.

They needed to know him, too, and I will make sure they do.

• Thank you for joining in part 9 of my series. We will travel through the hallways of the psychiatric world, the school system, and our family dynamics. I look forward to sharing more and hope you will see that none of us are alone.

• Please access the link below if you need to start with the Introduction to the series and many thanks. Each subsequent Part will be linked, upon publishing, at the bottom of each story for continuity and convenience.